


Center Mass

by tirsynni



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-02
Updated: 2014-01-02
Packaged: 2018-01-07 05:32:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1116105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tirsynni/pseuds/tirsynni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zack Fair has met his greatest opponent yet…and he has the lapful of vomit to prove it</p>
            </blockquote>





	Center Mass

**Author's Note:**

> Previously posted on livejournal and transferred here. At the time, artimusdin beta'd, so thanks still go her way. :)

The first time Zack realized that Cloud suffered from motion sickness, Cloud was throwing up in his lap.  
  
In Cloud’s defense, he had tried to warn him. In Zack’s defense, he thought Cloud was joking.  
  
Cloud began training to ride chocobos after that (technically, anyway: Zack had never seen anyone in less need of training), but every now and then, trucks or planes proved the best way to go.  
  
Discovering that Soldier strength and stamina meant little compared to the feel and smell of vomit in one’s lap, Zack worked hard to get Cloud past this…hiccup. He worked even harder when he realized, for some horrible reason, nine times out of ten Cloud aimed for him. Cloud swore that it was an accident, blue eyes huge and innocent. Zack pointed out that, in some instances, Cloud had crossed from one end of the plane to the other just to puke on him. Cloud simply reminded him that he had always been taught to aim center mass.  
  
The first attempt failed miserably and resulted in Cloud spending a day in the Infirmary and Zack walking around with one eyebrow. Who knew puking on an empty stomach was so much worse than puking on a full one?  
  
The second attempt -- distraction -- would have worked better if Zack hadn’t been focusing on the picture of beautiful blonde woman Cloud carried in his wallet. Zack ended up with a black eye, a smelly lap, and still only one eyebrow. Hey, it wasn’t Zack’s fault that Cloud’s mom was hot, okay?  
  
The third attempt…well, neither mentioned the third attempt again. Reno had been suitably bribed to keep quiet, too.  
  
And a busted lip joined the tally.  
  
But anyway.  
  
Zack had rose through the ranks like few before him. He had won Sephiroth’s friendship. He had conquered the Buster Sword _without_ losing any toes, thankyouverymuch. He would _not_ be defeated by such a miniscule thing as motion sickness.  
  
Soon after this declaration, Zack learned that vomit in one’s boots was actually very squelchy and hard to clean. Maybe jumping on a box and yelling that for all to hear wasn’t a good idea.  
  
Four months, two black eyes, one eyebrow, one busted lip, and an incredible amount of laundry later, Zack awoke abruptly in the cargo hold and realized he would only hear the whir of engines: no gagging, no coughing, no dry heaving. The only scent of vomit was what he couldn’t scrub out of his pants. The cargo hold was quiet and still and remarkably puke-free.  
  
Bewildered, Zack shifted to look for Cloud…  
  
And stared at the blond head resting on his shoulder, pale face slack with sleep.  
  
It meant having to remain deathly still for over three hours and having Sephiroth later threaten to pin him to his chair with the Masamune to stop him from bouncing due to his excess energy, but having a puke-free lap?  
  
Totally worth it.

 


End file.
